Friday, December 29, 2023

Review of Investigating Censor at World Building and Woolgathering

Solomon VK reviewed my new dark RPG wargame Investigating Censor at World Building and Woolgathering as part of a recent post.

I was originally inspired to put up Investigating Censor at itch.io as well as DTRPG because Solomon put his setting sourcebook Punth there, and I liked the minimalism of the site's appearance and process. Where to publish game PDFs is a real consideration, as DTRPG will give you a better deal if you do digital publishing exclusively through them. However, I had multiple motivations to diversify because I wasn't sure that Investigating Censor would pass DTRPG's content review; their content policy standards have seemed mercurial at times. 


I have been writing another adventure for Investigating Censor (The Hands of Lacquermere) intended to demonstrate applications of all concepts in the base game; it is geographically smaller-scale than Seven Leopards, encompassing a single polity and its surrounding wilds, but is much higher-resolution. Solomon, your Herculean spirit has stood behind me with brass knuckles and a club of wild olive during the editing process. I know that if I were to stretch sentences in the fashion of Procrustes, you would challenge me to a wrestling match, break my ribs, and consort with my female relatives, and so I have levied a grave and severe edit on The Hands of Lacquermere.

I want to draw attention to Semiurge's recent post, D20 Things That Might Go Wrong If You Have Too Many Hirelings, which would be an excellent addition to an Investigating Censor GM's toolbox, or anyone running a retinue-based wargame. 

Stay tuned for The Hands of Lacquermere!

Saturday, December 23, 2023

Passages from Investigating Censor and Seven Leopards

Artpunk Maximalist Weird Fiction WARGAMING


The Diluvian Augur of the Sea of Steeples


The Shipgutting Galley of the Duke of Umber


The Peasants and Mummies of Sugarcane Mire


The Sacrificial Winter Temple


The Pluripotent Blastocysts of the Infrared Eels

Thursday, December 21, 2023

New Art for Investigating Censor

I am a huge fan of Evlyn Moreau's work; she continually releases inspired, original material at her Patreon, and occasionally also offers to do commissions. When she announced her most recent round of commissions, I jumped in and requested a pair, one for Investigating Censor, and one for Seven Leopards.

The results: Bad Ass.


The Nocturne Keeper





Warrior Monk of the High Dreaming Citadel




Saturday, December 16, 2023

Seven Leopards

This is a complete adventure for Investigating Censor.

    Index
Introduction
Map
Sugarcane Mire
Port Umber
Forest of Molten Memories
Sea of Steeples
The Rosebud Bocage
Mount Submission
The Open Wild

Introduction

You have been deployed to a province where the potentates of the former pirate regime still reign. Your mission is to depose or reform the seven lords and warriors who have sworn undying enmity to the High Dreaming Citadel and the City of White and Gold. 

        The Seven Leopards
The Duke of Umber
The Mayor of the Mire
The Oracle of the Second Sky
The Sweet One
The Nocturne Keeper
The Captain of the Diluvian Augur
The Arrowseer




Sugarcane Mire

A forest of burbling mud with a smell like something baking. Trees that are warm to the touch, something ill and alive. Charcoal-hued, blue-eyed crocodilians cling to them. 

There are boiling pots submerged to the rim in hot spring sludge wells alight with herbs separating into tinctures, their crystals dancing in the steam. 

Men patrol, their lanternflames like stirring paper, off-white and silent, their boats made from the black bones of osseous rays that swam in from the sea. 

Black sugarcane reeds rise from submerged corpses. They are like smoke trails of a sooty fire fixed in time. 

The teeth and tongues of the sugarcane mummies are all that can be seen of the bodies, men and women who died sucking half-breaths through the water while incanting men of faith stood with solemnity atop them.
Their bellies are filled with herbs bound together into ulcer-blooded pharmakeia, rich things of vitiating power to certain nature spirits and thunder-bodied orb minds exiled from other aethers. If a freshly dead man's brain is placed inside one of these structures of herbal fabric, a mandragoran infant with continuity of consciousness with the dead man will be gradually born within. It will grow into the selfsame man or woman, but with a body of reeds and alchemically-imbued twine. 

The homes of the people here are submerged wickerwork, castles of bone-ribbed hallways woven from reeds. They are lit by softly luminescent orbs pried from the bones of dead anglerfish. The people sleep softly on warm beds of rotten bark. 

There are revolutionary peasants in the mire. They wield pikes so long they will bend and their blade tips will find their skittering way into your armor. Filthy-kneed bowmen will fire from mossy half-stumps or mud-sodden ridges lit by faerie lights. Canoes scraping over submerged roots, torches almost dying in the misty air.

Monastic rule is anathema to them. They hunger to destroy proud interlopers, and will on every occasion attempt to lure you into their swamp as they have done to horsemen and heavy infantry for many hundreds of years. They will prey on your presence and ensure reversion to the old ways.
They are no friends of their pirate lords but they are participants in the same faith, giving living men to the bog to drown and be preserved and feeding corpses to the black sugarcane that is their food and export.

The mayor of their submerged commune lives in a pile of wood with torches equidistant at 12 intervals so that its interior will never be entirely lightless. He takes meetings here with even the most hostile interlopers and gives them one chance to leave the commoners to their swamps, their cane, and their drowning of humans.

He wears 12 apostles leather bandoliers each with alchemy at the ready at a 1/20 rate of each. See Appendix J: The Uses of Alchemy. In a hot situation, he will tear off the one closest to his chin, check its type, and use it however it seems to apply. 

His wife makes sugar confections shaped like men which bob in the bog water like someone stuck in mud and melt gradually into the water as the quarry approaches, and the peasants ready their pikes.

The Mayor of the Mire
Acuity: d12
Alchemy: d12
Archery: d12
Fetches and Fetishes: d12
Flute: d12
Gambling: d12
Impersonation: d10
Poetry: d10
Prowess: d12

Sugarcane Peasant (5d20)
Acuity: d6
Alchemy: d6
Archery: d6
Fetches and Fetishes: d6
Flute: d6
Gambling: d6
Prowess: d8
Can attack at 15’, fights at d4 Prowess within that range.

Port Umber

Many ports are like violent fists and stomachs that vomit across themselves by night and burn with rashes each morning. Port Umber is a brooding mind alight with burning eyes, its thick neck ascending in stronghouses across the seashore, its disciplined thoughts turned to animal purposes.

The chaos of the pirate ports is kept behind closed doors by the amber-armored halberdiers paid handsomely to split skulls along the lanes, raucous hell-raisers curb-stomped and left to recover, actual criminals cut down by razored blades or dragged to the nearest pier and drowned for the glory of the giving seafoam. 

People live a semblance of normality away from the waterfront and gory tide. Law permits contracts, resale, doors locked but not barred. There are people here who would be normal in the Castellan cities, decent men and sweet girls, august matrons and loving mothers. Almost all give thanks to Leviathan for their peace and prosperity. 

A Duke of the former regime retains naked power in this place. His sprawling manor projects out upon the sea, a splendorous shantytown of rooms, each distinctive by its subtle protrusion from the superstructure as if all were stretching for position, drooping or rising or curling out above the sea.

His manor is conspicuous with tall-windowed festhalls with vast murals, relatives in finery, dogs, swords, mustaches, tables ensuring no wasted space with bowmen watching from cobblestone pillars built into the walls themselves and from balconies to unknown places, supervisors of pork and wine.

The eaves of his manor hold many hidden infiltrators, for they are the best proactive defense against rooftop killers

The Duke of the pirate quarter is cloaked in gold-hemmed olive sable, his hair drawn back, eyes practically gleaming red in the mind’s eye yet are a dull brown which merely radiates malevolence and power. He leaves crippled men in his retinue’s wake, their bodies saying do not trifle, do not pretend, do not love me, do not seek sympathy or companionship in me, for he fears death and poison and will these things no means of approach. Men's hamstrings are cut, their backs are stove in, their legs are twisted round so that the district gazes in grim horror and whispers, deal straight with him or leave him be.
The snout of his galley reaches from its kennel at the waterline chained in an arched tunnel beneath the floorboards of his home, a red ram not entirely metal but oiled with the brittlemaking shellac of the shipgutting ammonite. Armored marines glint behind the wolfshead stern  around campfires on the actual deck, so proof is the Duke's ship against the weapons that burnt his son alive at sea.

The Duke of Umber
Acuity: d20
Alchemy: d12
Archery: d12
Fetches and Fetishes: d12
Horsemanship: d12
Impersonation: d10
Poetry: d12
Prophecy: d6
Prowess: d12
Horse Archery (Derived Stat): d12

Defensive Infiltrators (2d4)
Acuity: d8
Alchemy: d6
Archery: d8
Fetches and Fetishes: d8
Gambling: d6
Impersonation: d8
Prowess: d8

Retinue Marines (6d6)
Acuity: d6
Alchemy: d6
Archery: d8
Gambling: d6
Prowess: d8
1/4 armor


Forest of Molten Memories

A place where all people of this province once went to die, old and sick and festering. The ruined, the jilted, those cursed by the moon god. Executioners dispatching their passengers, mothers exposing their babes, Monks of the Other Sky making Coins of the Junction. The corpse wood was forever a sallow half-light, mist bladed by silver sunshine through the tree boughs.
  
The dead leaves come like paper from a burnt scriptorium, rustling in green grass at the hem of the bocage. When the people of the pirate coast turned their prayers to the sea, the tree spirits were left with their moon-bleached bones, but new deaths were levied in the tide. The tree-healing mist of corpse miasma has risen from the wood with the cessation of sacrifice, but the people of the coast have not forgotten this place, lest it reach out and take what it once was given. A hero in black pays subtle homage to the ancestors, spirits, and tree ghosts here, a living sacrifice from the ranks of the foremost sea robbers. He guards the forest and only sometimes lends his battle hand at sea.

He wears a tall, circular helm painted with a wolfshead, shag in charcoal stripes, the yellow eyes like lantern lights. Dark square armor clads his shoulders and chest. A black bow invisible in the darkness. A silent horse and saddle. He carries bone-white blades drawn only in close encounters and a fishhooked spear to bring foes from horseback. There is a netting of lamellar fishscale hanging darkly by the horse's knees.

Ghosts are his eternal allies. He lays hanging nocturnes in his ambush wood. He does not fear them. It is said that banshees are silent with his admiration.

The Nocturne Keeper
Acuity: d12
Alchemy: d12
Archery: d12
Fetches and Fetishes: d20
Flute: d12
Horsemanship: d12
Impersonation: d8
Poetry: d10
Prophecy: d4
Prowess: d12
Horse Archery (Derived Stat): d12

The Rosebud Bocage
Trees crisscross this grassy land like plans for evisceration, track marks planted by a vision mocking the fey Castellan bocages through subtle imperfection.

There is a summer palace of white towers amid tall and sprawling gardens. The outer doorways are white trellis archways over passages to absolute darkness. There is firelight after labyrinthine turns and the sound of polite laughter.

Her halls are hearthlit places of reddish stone where courtiers stand and speak with tight cordiality or conspicuous boldness. The floor is laid out in layers like a low ziggurat. When she is present, she sits upon the height.

Her clothes are piled upon her in heaps of crimson and silver. She sits in a chair that cannot be seen beneath her raiments. Little wooden tables of delicacies are her companions. A continual rotation of courtiers comes to lean by her ears and lips.

She has only one eye. The other was plucked by a witch during her girlhood.

Her eye has all the gravity, darkness, and inhuman danger of a black hole. Everything in the room revolves around it. No one can keep their eyes off her for long, and anyone whom her gaze falls upon stands trial on capital charges. 

She is master of the whisper. Everyone in this court is her agent. Poisonings are continual as she beats her power structure into shape as if perfecting a blade.

The brush of a fingernail. Steam breathed from whispering lips. A flick of tincture from the fingertips. Garments made deadly overnight so that the victim thrashes, screaming with agony, amidst shouts of laughter at afternoon tea. No one can know where she will strike. All they can do is perform in a theater where the only correction is death. But the rewards are lavish indeed.

Her agents are innocuous. Pleasant young women with something behind their eyes. Harmless old men whose evil lives are not apparent at first glance.

Her calculus is as unknown among the Seven Leopards as it is within her court. Many poisonings are attributed to her. They treat her with scrupulous courtesy.

The Sweet One
Acuity: d20
Alchemy: d20
Fetches and Fetishes: d12
Gambling: d12
Impersonation: d12

Courtier (3d12)
Acuity: d12
Alchemy: d12
Archery: d12
Fetches and Fetishes: d6
Flute: d8
Gambling: d6
Horsemanship: d8
Impersonation: d12
Poetry: d8
Prowess: d6
Horse Archery (Derived Stat): d8

Mercenary (3d20)
Acuity: d6
Archery: d6
Gambling: d6
Prowess: d8


The Sea of Steeples

A crosscross field of crooked white spears demarcates the edge of this hedgehog ocean. The air is sodden with hot steam and the fish grow white in the water. The spikes are thermal flues rising from the ocean floor. They pierce the fathoms to disgorge boiling gall, and all that passes by takes on an unhealthy pallor. 

In the depths of the flue field white islands rise, pallid piles of pseudostones collected like stacks of sand-dollars onto a still portion of ocean. The pirates have scraped square caverns in the brittle concentrate and they lay languid in the powerful sun, bent by liquor, laying in bundles to sweat their last bender, or sometimes murdered and cast to bleach out as bones. 

The flues coil the sky with their heat. Striations run crosscross across them, and when broken they will burn matter without fire, cut holes of disintegration into passing ships. 

Beneath the island there is a great air pocket packed around with algae and sealed from rupture. There are rickety wooden shantytowns built like shelves or steps in a rope ladder against its shifting walls, which descend to a great burbling grotto at the base of things where there is a mouth to the steam-filled sea.

This reeking algae-bounded cityscape is the port of call for a beast born of antediluvian terrorism. Its mantle was torn from the bones of a leviathan while seeding life into the sea. It carries men to live like sea life and engage in economic cannibalism, crushing and robbing the ships that ride the trade winds by the Steeple Sea.

Eldritch blue, it is mottled with an intensity and depth like a nebula stripped of black space everywhere but behind it. Its teeth hold a measured malevolence as if a grimace before words come to blows, or a smile at a foe's unseen error.

Its flesh emerges from an ovular sheath of osseous stone. When it arises, the green sea plunges down, walls of falling water with a great shattered orb of glossy bone at the bottom. Ships are smashed against it, their contents falling into its fissures, unctuous portals of film holding back the water. Within the beast mushroom-like mantle spreads from its core, its fanning inner lines glowing gray with bioluminesence. Its asteroid-hard bone-end can catch the sun from a pit of shadows.

Its human captain is unhinged by the monster's twists and turns beneath the sea, and yet he guides it, pulling at its flesh to surface it beneath sea lanes and splinter passing ships like pincered walnuts, crewmen screaming with horror and dismay.

His men catacomb themselves in the folds of putty-soft flesh at the core of the beast that is warm, limp, dry, and breathing. They are carried through innumerable turns and spring forth when they feel hulls crashing on the rocky surface.

The captain’s purple coat hangs from him, his underclothes practically rotted away, his scabbard and boots freshly oiled, his sword taken from an elephant noble of a distant archipelago and is long enough to swing from such a mount.

The sodden cargo from smashed ships is dragged deeper into the creature, the living sailors and passengers cut open and kicked back into the sea or dragged in and chained. The captain soothes his transport with tones from a reed recorder. The vast creature dives, and ripples pass for miles over the sea

Its vast presence hangs in the fathoms of the deep. Its passing can be felt beyond eyesight in the murky sea.

Captain of the Diluvian Augur
Acuity: d20
Alchemy: d12
Fetches and Fetishes: d12
Flute: d20
Gambling: d10
Prophecy: d8
Prowess: d12

        Pirates (6d20)
Archery: d6
Prowess: d6


Mount Submission

Crags protrude from the verdant grass like eruptions of compounded bone. Ore is written into the naked faces like the malign tattoos of an eldritch murderer. Higher up, the wildflowers devolve to atavistic forms, thorns hooked and joining into floral speartips and gothic arches, petals shagged like terrestrial anemone. The mountain protrudes into the too-low clouds, which recoil but cannot escape, and the mountain disappears within them like the violation of a ghost. 

He steps forward from misty doorways in mountain clouds coming with his stick and long white beard, black tattoos visible on his legs and hands. He is an advisor in evil deeds for the well-being of the salt shore communities that make the fatal sacrifice. 
He consults with spirits on a howling plain on a surface like stone made of sun-stuff beneath a midnight purple sky. He gives the missives of octagonal eyes and bat-winged pseudostatues and voices captured and forced into reforming sonic shapes to the lords of play and money who are the modern-day lineage of their hard and barren cult.

He prunes the geneaologies, coming to the sides of newborns and smiting a few to stillness with his staff, blessing others with burning salt brine in the eyes, which leaves shards of green divinity in their irises, blessings of fate that will transform them with time and make them into half-ichythid demigods.

His men are pious pirates and co-opted repurposed monks who never really believed in anything but wanderlust and drink but have now been made martial and somewhat prophetic compared to any other infantry.

One enforcer has blinded himself and sees only prophecy. He is guided by a spirit of sea rot and tiny flapping things devour his flesh as he walks, rivulets of blood running down his paling skin as he speaks of what is over the next horizon. His warriors prepare accordingly.

The Oracle of the Second Sky 
Acuity: d12
Alchemy: d12
Archery: d12
Fetches and Fetishes: d12
Flute: d12
Horsemanship: d10
Poetry: d10
Prophecy: d20
Prowess: d12
Horse Archery (Derived Stat): d10

Monks of the Other Sky (3d6)
Acuity: d8
Alchemy: d6
Archery: d8
Fetches and Fetishes: d6
Horsemanship: d8
Poetry: d6
Prophecy: d6
Prowess: d8
Horse Archery (Derived Stat): d8


The Open Wild

Shining prairies extend to the stormy rim of the visible world. The rain tends warmly to the petals of cream and strawberries and then departs to leave slick long grass bowing beneath the purple clouds. A mountain similarly clad in wildflowers rises in the south, and the lowlands beckon with a vineyard bocage. Further east there is a city by the sea, and a forest whose off-black bark is entwined with bone charms.

An arrow may strike you from the horizon here, fired by a bow hero exiled for a social curse. He wears red livid armor marked by golden slits. This sight alone will scatter squadrons, his tall tapering helmet and a demonic face all bloodcolored resin.
If the bow can be seen, it means survival will require one's every ruse and effort. He can kill from a horizon away. His arrows leave ragged tunnels in flesh

He killed the beasts of this land, the ones that scattered cities. He freed it for habitation. He slaughters armsmen just to reduce other violence. He is a natural champion of the pirate cause and his arrows have killed admirals in war.

He hates you most of all and will fire from the horizon, a tiny red dot. Subterfuge will be needed to bring him near enough to kill but he has not come within speaking range of anyone but his retinue for ten years. All who approach him are felled, cursing his cruel and insensate isolation.

The Arrowseer
Acuity: d20
Alchemy: d8
Archery: d20
Fetches and Fetishes: d8
Flute: d12
Horsemanship: d12
Prowess: d12
Horse Archery (Derived Stat): d12

The Arrowseer’s Archers (3d6)
His comrades ride on horses draped in furs, lion, leopard, tiger, wolf, their arms clad in armored boxes hinged at the elbow, their tall circular helms painted in goblinface. Their armor is cloaked in tigerstripe or a midnight starscape.
Acuity: d8
Alchemy: d6
Archery: d12
Fetches and Fetishes: d10
Gambling: d6
Horsemanship: d12
Poetry: d6
Prowess: d8
Horse Archery (Derived Stat): d12

Behind them ride myrmidons draped with stainless steel chainmail interspersed with links of pure silver. They wear broad necklaces of mirror plate, blinding, they stand behind the archers with their glaives burning in the sun

The Burning Myrmidons (2d4)
Acuity: d8
Archery: d6
Fetches and Fetishes: d6
Gambling: d6
Horsemanship: d12
Poetry: d6
Prowess: d12
Horse Archery (Derived Stat): d6

Monday, December 11, 2023

Investigating Censor

        An RPG Wargame

Investigating Censor is a dark rules-light RPG wargame set amidst a campaign by oracular warrior monks to eliminate​ a sect of human-sacrificing pirates. 

The leaders of these monks, Investigating Censors, can enlist anyone into their retinue on pain of outlawry. Anybody who is not an enemy can be turned into a party member.

Proper use of this power will bring powerful alchemists, spirit-binders, sword saints, and courtesans to the cause of the Investigating Censors.

Misuse of the Investigating Censors' charter will arouse fanatical resistance among the people of the pirate regime.

Allies will be needed, as the warriors monks must wage archery battles from horseback, fight pirate ships at sea, storm sacrificial fanes in the caverns of the rocky coast, and survive encounters with supernatural creatures and their powers of prophecy.





Available on itch.io and DTRPG
"100% febrile... 100% scintillating
The whole work sparkles. An excellent way to generate febrile situations and toss chaos in the form of the PCs into the middle." - The Lone Amigo


Passages from Investigating Censor



          Index
Investigating Censor
The Mission
Treetop Willow Musth Harvesting Complex
Urban Vice District
Manorial Valley
Massive Excavation Operation
Pirate Assets
Pirate Temples
          Winter Temple
          Conflagration Temple
          Infrared Temple
          Plunder Temple
The High Road
Appendix A: The High Dreaming Citadel
Appendix B: How We Came to the Land of the Pirates
Appendix C: Secret Societies
Appendix D: Co-Opting Centers of Gravity and Key Personalities
Appendix E: The Search for Allies
Appendix F: Monks of the Lower Orders
Appendix G: Corruption, Loyalty, and Resolve
Appendix H: Cachet and Skill Investment
Appendix I: Skills
Appendix J: The Uses of Alchemy
Appendix K: The Uses of Fetches and Fetishes
Appendix L: Retinue Personalities
Appendix M: Combat
Appendix N: Commentary
Appendix O: Local Hostility
Appendix P: Variants


Investigating Censor

You are an Investigating Censor of the High Dreaming Citadel, a warrior monk from a temple of stricture and prophecy.

Your order overthrew the Castellans’ Alliance and then destroyed the pirate regime of the southern coast, for they owed their loyalty to the Castellans.

You are now deployed against the Cult of Preservation, the underground remnants of the pirates. Your mission is to burn their pirate ships, tear down their wharves, seize their assets, eliminate their captains, save their captives from sacrifice, and send their cliff-face temples tumbling into the sea.

You go to a land where the people have every reason to believe in the righteousness of their cause, however bitter its method. They were the only ones to profit from the Castellans’ disastrous wars. 

You have been vested with a fell power by the High Dreaming Citadel. You may issue a Writ of Purpose to any individual in the southern realm. Doing so will compel them to follow your directives on pain of outlawry. You may order them into battle, to go undercover under dangerous circumstances, or to end their own lives.

The Writs you issue and the services you compel will greatly shape the reputation that precedes you and the resistance you will face.


Treetop Willow Musth Harvesting Annex

The trees are so thick that there are bunkers made of tree rounds rolled into position and hollowed. The actual harvesting of musth occurs in the canopy, the narcotic hyperfuel welling out of hacked-up sprigs.


The laborers and exporters of the annex are ill-suited to the surrounding wildlands, but they interface with a forest tribe that uses its ancestral burial pit as a smoldering soil furnace to imbue charcoal with alchemical properties. 


Attempts to create alchemical tinctures with Hypervigilance, Sexual Arousal, Euphoria, or Battle Psychosis effects here gain a free reroll due to the availability of fresh willow musth. See Appendix J: The Uses of Alchemy.


Urban Vice District

Vice neighborhoods are bathed in a low blue light. They are kept elevated and walled off to avoid polluting the ground beneath them and the mountains around.

...

The vice districts have not lost their popularity with the downfall of the pirate regime, though the character of the games has grown darker and more vicious as the source of offshore treasure dries to a trickle. 

...

Brothels are ubiquitous here but are complex affairs; many men develop burning affections for individual prostitutes, and meetings held in the brothels can be complicated by the men competing for the attention of prostitutes and prostitutes playing the men off each other for amusement and demonstration of mastery. The madams keep a close eye on proceedings, manage bodyguards, and ensure that powerful visitors are positively-disposed enough to them that they can be called upon during power plays.

...

Every kind of alchemy is needed in the Vice District; hedonizers, entheogens, poison, stimulants, soothing creams, artificial immune systems, and panacea. Production and sale of alchemical reagents is controlled by the Vice Provisioner, in the sense that underground operations will need to give him a cut. 

...

This Secret Man prizes autocratic stability. He does not care about public decorum or the wellbeing of this society's worst-off people. He provides narcotic reagents seized from smugglers and unauthorized tincturers to addicts in exchange for their services in pretty much any simple task he needs. He has found them usefully disposable.

...

Hereditary Arsonists
They were created as a corps of firestarter burglars in service to a corrupt Secret Man. He would use them to set fires in valuable but vulnerable properties, and then he would rush in to make a fire-sale offer. As soon as the money changed hands (in presence of his general counsel), the burglars would re-infiltrate and end the fire.

Today they do not re-infiltrate. They serve no Secret Man, having burnt him alive when they'd learned all they could from him. Now, they are a fire cult dedicated to the ruthless and exclusive protection of the prerogatives of the common people of the Vice District- both against oppression from above, and against economic competition from without.

...

The ICs will be continually called out by drunks. Actual confrontations will be more occasional. When the ICs or members of their Retinue walk in the streets, the GM may, at will, roll on the Vice District Atavism Table or generate a similar result

...

Knocked-over lanterns cause a massive fire; a volunteer destruction squad rushes to the scene, but local extortionists pelt them with wood and pottery. 2d4 criminals

...

Human traffickers carry a passed-out woman or a screaming child to a donkey cart with a wicker cage in the back. 2d4 criminals

...

Despite the violence and degradation, there are many shrines here. The ICs may encounter one in passing, or more if they seek them out.

A Shrine of:
d10
1. Rats
2. Mortar
3. Drainage
4. Meat
5. The Winds that Roll the Dice
6. Fire
7. Liquor
8. Prostitutes
9. Loans
10. Foreigners
If an offering is given, roll Poetry or Flute vs d12. On a success, the supplicant gains a reroll to be used at will.

...

Volksgeist that slithers through the pipes:
d4
1. Tempting and devouring people
2. Gambling with lone celebrants in out-of-the-way places, putting forth dangerous otherworldly artifacts for its part
3. Eating and drinking vast quantities of the Vice Fortress’ reserves
4. Killing those who’ve lost everything
Volksgeist
Acuity: d12
Alchemy: d20
Fetches and Fetishes: d20
Flute: d20
Gambling: d20
Impersonation: d12
Prophecy: d20
Prowess: d20

...

Soon, Luck Angels are attracted to the proceedings and stand perfectly still with their freakishly proportioned bone, wax, and ceramic bodies near the goldtalkers, their false porcelain faces low in their scale- ribbed chests. They move only when following the goldtalkers, or to blow burning gold dust on those who accuse this cult of prosperity of malfeasance. Those touched by the dust will die of freak accident or confrontation in d4 days from the encounter.


Manorial Valley

The great grain-harvesting steps have fallen into the shadows of volunteer orchards, and the sun- warmed water has sunk into the earth to service cassava. Shacks and counting-houses nearly slide into the valley from their perches amid ever-growing bramble. At the bottom of the canyon, more shadowed than the faces before they grew covered in trees, is a shining white and gold manor that tumbles across a river plain. The mansion’s luster is undimmed but its outer walls have been broken in many places.

...

The cavalry are loyal to the FRO, but a few of them have been enchanted by subtle words from the concubines. If there is ever a power struggle between the wife and the concubines while the FRO is away, these men will side with the concubines. They will claim that the wife was cut down after poisoning several of the concubines' children. The concubines are willing to make this ruse credible, and characterize poisoning their weaker sons as a sacrifice for the stronger.

...

They pore over woodblock scrolls detailing vast nautical victories, plunder ennobling the plunderer, the sacred bond of blood and treasure which their people have with the sea. They have not forgotten, and their myth sings in their blood. They are partisans of their father's lost cause, and as their food supply dwindles and their cavalrymen sit on the walls, their ire grows into a black bile that must find its means of expression.

...

She knows exactly how long the stores are going to last, exactly which FROs are sending messengers here and what it is they lack, and she knows how the bandits in the hills grow bolder and bolder, closer and closer. She knows how the concubines whisper; she does not know the chasm-like darkness of their design. 

...

The daughters have little to gain from the maneuvers of the concubines, given the agnatic inheritance of south coast society, and they are broadly aligned with the lady of the house, though they dread the day that the blood of their mothers and brothers will run across the smooth tiles of the white manor. 

...

Headman
He oversees the people who live on the valley slopes. They grow their cassava in the shade, shelters of bramble that hum with trilling insects. There is silkrock in the crags; it is impregnated with bacteria that concentrates aerial filaments around it, and the women pull it in reams from the sun-warmed rocks.

...

Tree-Ghost Nephews
Men who can speak to the tree ghosts of the outer wild, gaining information and sometimes sending travelers to unfortunate ends. They are often dismayed by how the forest spirits seem to favor the bandits, given some elemental kinship.
Acuity: d6
Alchemy: d6
Archery: d6
Fetches and Fetishes: d12
Flute: d8
Impersonation: d8
Poetry: d6
Prophecy: d4


Massive Excavation Operation

Ten thousand monks can be seen from afar, their white civilian headwraps weaving around the hillside like airborne cotton.

The true carpet of the land makes itself apparent as one nears the mountain, the common laborers in earth-tone tunics scraping the soil with their fingers.

...

There are great rickety networks of pallets cut from green wood mounting endless sacks of red millet kept beneath multicolored reams of waterproof tissue; these are not for eating but for making wine in stone basins cut through disused quarries, which can be seen around the lakes, gray walls poxed by weeping pools of fermenting millet.

There are many tattooists working around the millet pools, and they advertise their abilities with beautifully-tattooed pigs.

...

They are monks of soil, and have no intrinsic loyalty to you monks of stone beyond the value of your association in the commoner's eye.

...

At night, some shelter-complexes are lit by red lanterns, some are lit blue. Where they are blue, wounded men lay. Where they are red, cards turn and tiles land amid scampering dice.

...

A man who loses everything can trudge out at the next dawn to win another day's pay and another chance at the pot. A man who wins everything faces a new problem: getting back to civilization with his life and his riches.

...

He gazes at the black walls in his imagination that encircle this mountain, and these are from where demons and disasters emerge. He watches his workers with an unblinking eye and keeps a hand of iron ready to subdue them, for he can sense the shadow taking root in their hearts.

...

Magistracy of Arsenic Artificer
A grim but harmless madman who assesses artifacts and carries out engineering projects, otherwise speaking nonsense.

...

Voidmaker
An expert in explosives and solvents, and he can consistently produce a material that acts as both. He is morbidly fascinated by the stripping of the mountaintop; as stranger forms emerge, he becomes more and more obsessed with the unaccountable structures that must lay beneath, and their implications for the work of nonhuman consciousnesses in this realm. He will not stop, no matter what might emerge from the mountain.
Alchemy: d10
Fetches and Fetishes: d6
Horsemanship: d6
Prophecy: d4
Prowess: d6

...

Labor Boss
This man is the end of a long, unbroken line of sea lords belonging to the Cult of Protection. His fathers calmed hurricanes with offers of blood and called down thunder strikes on pursuing navies. The lore of his youth was of sea battles, the love of naiads, and fabulous treasure given to one's fellows or secreted away.
He was a boy when the High Dreaming Citadel sent his father screaming through their antechamber, bristling with arrows and squirting blood. His dreams of salt and timber turned to ash with his family's manor. He escaped with a scullion boy, their futures uncertain but matched in prospects.
He grew up rough, a manual laborer since he was old enough to cut his hands on the rock. He forgot the glory of battle and sea maidens, seeing drunken thuggery and broken hearts in the lanes of his township, far from the manor or sea. What he did not forget were stories of treasure, especially not one that his childless great uncle told him of this mountain. 
[…]
He will stop at nothing to reach the root of this mountain. He will stop at nothing to be the first to enter its final chambers.

...

A murmuring ziggurat hanging with fresh fruit 


Secrets of the Shifting Earth
d4
3. Monks of an outlawed monastery are infiltrating the laborers and legitimate monks to break open the site of a propitiated tigress banshee sealed away by ancestral sword saints.
    3d4 Monks of the Sapient Scream
Acuity: d8
Alchemy: d8
Archery: d8
Fetches and Fetishes: d8
Flute: d10
Impersonation: d10
Prophecy: d4
Prowess: d8
    Tigress Banshee (if unsealed)
Acuity: d20
Alchemy: d20
Archery (scream, affects all in earshot): d12
Fetches and Fetishes: d12
Impersonation: d20
Poetry: d10
Prophecy: d20
Prowess: d20
Speed: 12 squares

...

The excavation unearthed a court of blood serpents which had been sealed when their complex was attacked using tectonic weapons; several survived the centuries by binding their fellows and draining their blood. The survivors have still dried out to the point that their organs no longer function, and so they need blood to maintain their animation and rationality.

...

A man apparently buried alive. He spits dirt and speaks an archaic version of the southern coast dialect. In truth, he is the superstructure of a dozen mummies of varying ages and sizes fused in layers throughout each other like a matryoshka doll. […] 
A layer may be good, the next evil, one sagacious, another elemental, one musical, and so forth, until the wizened core is revealed, a drawn ancient infant like a wooden mandragora.

...

Some of the buried individuals took parapanaceums before their inhumation and have survived the ceremonies in degraded form; they have been mentally and physically “altered” by their long ride in the soil, but come to their senses when disinterred.


Pirate Assets

Pirate Interceptor
A great rectangular box fanning slightly outward at sea level, a great prison and shipping container built around a long, brazen sea ram. It has warehouse doors on its side and front for heaping treasure and disgorging fighting men, and there are gaps in the wood beneath the eaves for men to fire bows sidelong or hurl down pots of naphtha and scorpions.
The ship operates under lateen sails until contact range is imminent, when the pirates descend to oars and prepare to ram or come alongside the prize.

...

Pirate Mothership
A great mansion carved into a floating boulder. It rocks back and forth with the cascading tide, its walkways and balconies bristling with men armed with shortbows and firepot slings and grapnel- laden arbalests.


Pirate Temples

          Winter Temple
Snowflakes thick as cotton balls whirl in the air. The cracked rock beneath the temple mouth is clad in ice in splash patterns. The pillars and crags off the coast are hemmed by the bones of arctic creatures killed by the cold and carried in on the whitecaps.

The interior walkway to the sacrificial is cliff slippery with ice. A shrill wind cuts the cavern’s mouth. It is a moaning, salivating gullet.

...

Deeper in the shrine, there is an even more beastly figure. He is a man in symbiosis with a polar shark, its white body split open and woven through him with pink coral which transmits their blood and nervous tissue to one another in exchange for a portion of the principal. His face has disappeared within the beast’s gullet and his voice emerges from within, and he feeds on the slurry of gore that is made by the creature’s thousand teeth when it finds or is given prey. He is armored in whalebone, and the shark’s dry and reeking back is similarly clad in a spiderweb of bone. Its tail and its sidefins have been cut away; the man devoured them, and the beast devoured parts of him, all as part of their dread pact.

          Conflagration Temple
The pathway to the sacrificial edge is a carpet of burnished brass flanked by tall fires in rings of gold and candelabras that blaze with whale fat. The effect is that of too much light, an infernal illumination of fate, an overwhelming intensification of one’s last moments.

...


          Infrared Temple
At first, it seems like stars can be seen in the roof of the cave but these are luminescent silkworms and flecks of mercurial metal. 

...

The glow of the pallid moon-specter is faint, here. It is from the air itself that the stone takes its purple shadow.

...

This is a place of slowly-transforming stone, ropes of smooth rock coiling with an almost imperceptible movement like gore in the mouth of a salivating lamprey. Worse, some coils seem to have their own animation, emerging from the bedrock and then pausing as if sampling the air before moving in a new direction. Some of these have already traversed the cavern and move from wall to wall, a continual line with new matter. Some would continue in this course for centuries if fire and sword were not carried to this place.

...

The true inhabitants of the cavern are not seen in the pirates, though therein they reside.

...

People are often cast into the sea from coastal pirate fortress temples. Sometimes, things in the sea like what they have been given, and slither up the walls to find more. 

          Plunder Temple
A Former Regime Official presides here, sacrilegiously turning this place into his own personal fiefdom.

...

Brazen candelabras burn scented red candles and waft the characteristic scents of faraway lands, holding the sacred brine air at bay.

...

They wear lamellar tunics segmented and colored like cockroaches, and carry a variety of halberds and pikes like long straight black lines projecting from their bodies. Some carry magnificent longswords, gifts from the overlord or prizes from sea-sorties, lacquerware scabbards shimmering like golden ghosts in the cavern’s half-light or else sheathed in venous prepuce, oasis tree raisin, lavender moonsail, or dripping bloodworm silk.

...

There is coffee, turmeric, ground gallstone, saffron, liverwurst, hyperephedra, bloodglass, and celestial peacock down in abundance, spilled and reveled in, mixed together in scattered concentrations or piled in wooden bowls to await enjoyment.


The High Road

14: d4 Fetch Whisperers (d8 Acuity, d8 Fetches and Fetishes)
15: d4 Wandering Sages (d6 Acuity, d6 Alchemy, d6 Fetches and Fetishes, d6 Poetry)
16: d4 Traveling Courtesans (enclosed palanquins with 2d12 bearers and 2d4 guards with d6 Prowess) (see Appendix C: The Search for Allies)
17: d4 Lower Order Monks (see Appendix C: The Search for Allies)
18: d4 Foreign Eunuchs (see Appendix C: The Search for Allies)
19: d4 Soothsayers (d6 Poetry, d6 Prophecy)
20: Sword Saint (see Appendix C: The Search for Allies)

...

10. Tower staffed by uninformed militiamen holding imprisoned figures from the time of the fallen regime.
11. An alchemist's estuary with a floating market and a salt smuggling operation, this resource normally the prerogative of Former Regime Officials.
12. An old, overgrown burial grounds with gravediggers' and mummy grinders' shacks half-visible in the foliage.


Appendix A: The High Dreaming Citadel

          The Mirror of the Moon
The vast ridge that the High Dreaming Citadel apexes lays above the clouds, and is so cold, dark, rocky, and barren that it is said to be a colony of the moon.

...

These monks are chosen for having a predisposition for solitude and the solving of arcane puzzles. They sit amongst eldritch mummies, who were the first men to open this enterprise and paved the way by taking the guards and wards of the gate of that certain heaven into their flesh and psyches.

The men who became mummies contacted an isolated sanctuary in a failed universe. It is a place set aside from the cosmoses to shelter mortals against sphere-devouring horrors brought forth by excess incantations. The inhabitants speak cryptically, often in simple impressions, but with a wisdom not replicable through terrestrial divination.

They are described as bald, eyeless, genderless sages in halls of glowing white. Their sanctuary is expansive, indefinite, with only the dimensions of the lower reaches demarcated by golden angles.

They speak to the other side amidst existential interference, and must focus through an ever-changing labyrinth of sensory inputs and perceptual gaps. This ability is channeled with the aid of the ephemeral spirits of the first mummies, and the conduit is supported by the Permanent Ones who have died. Their bodies sit among the living, hunched where they starved, and serve as fetters and transceivers for the energy of the white and gold sanctuary. This is the fate of all Permanent Ones.

These monks can barely hold onto their flickering impressions. Clear signals have grown rare with the corruption of ages, but the missive to eradicate the Cult of Protection was as clear as any in the last century. 


Appendix B: How We Came to the Land of the Pirates

A hundred thousand northern warriors were shipped up the Poison River and died there. Only the pirate realm profited from this war.

...

With the ruination of the Castellans, the monks descended from their mountain peaks and gave a new law with their iron clubs.


Appendix C: Secret Societies

Ultracarcerists: A brand of south coast ultranationalists at odds with the Sea Brothers. They blame piracy as the cause of the regime being attacked and subjugated by an outside power. While they oppose monastic rule, they see it as a symptom of the real problem: the pirates and the Cult of Protection. Their response is Draconism; kill all pirates and Protection Cultists, and then incarcerate all other lawbreakers with hard labor for life.


Appendix D: Co-Opting Centers of Gravity and Key Personalities

The legitimacy of the mountain congregations is not widely accepted in the southern coast as anything but a temporary fact of life.

...

Issuing Writs of Purpose to Key Personalities and Centers of Gravity incurs a serious loss of face for the receiver, and will lead to deep consternation on the part of local leaders, and possibly dismay among the people if removing a leader from their duties destabilizes the community. 

...

If the ICs do issue Writs of Purpose to CoGs and KPs, the GM should strongly consider implementing effects from Appendix O: Local Hostility. 


Appendix E: The Search for Allies

Raven Confidante
Advisors and entertainers from the time of the Castellans. They are women who wear men’s clothing and are hired as partners for discussion and banter. They typically dress in all black, have black teeth, and carry swords. They are highly entertaining, but are also experts in etiquette. They were treated well in the Castellan realms, but are keenly wary of pirate lords due to terrible tales passed down within their syndicate.
Acuity: d6
Flute: d6
Gambling: d8
Horsemanship: d6
Impersonation: d8
Poetry: d8
Prowess: d6

...

Special Advisor
Poetess-oracle nuns of the Lowland Path. Having them write and disseminate poetry in a region can bend sentiment towards the monastic community; they can also improve sentiment by acting as lawspeakers.
Acuity: d8
Archery: d8
Flute: d6
Horsemanship: d8
Poetry: d12
Prophecy: d6
Prowess: d6
Horse Archery (Derived Stat): d8


Appendix F: Monks of the Lower Orders

Monks of Willing Putrefaction: Monks who seek the soul’s transcendence from their bodily state by degrading it. They are known to live in trash heaps and in the most extreme circumstances in gong pools, and when on procession they drink liquor to the point of illness, eat the greasiest foods at roadside stalls, sleep in ditches, and debauch the most ill-favored prostitutes. They are, however, very good alchemists and excellent gamblers.
Alchemy: d8
Fetches and Fetishes: d6
Flute: d6
Gambling: d10|
Impersonation: d6


Appendix G: Corruption, Loyalty, and Resolve

Corrupt characters may steal from locals, commit violence, attempt to extort sexual favors, or even sell Retinue artifacts on the black market. 

...

Corruption cannot be mechanically ascertained by any means except Prophecy.

...

Paid hirelings who have not received Writs of Purpose are always Disloyal.

...

Pain of outlawry is a terrifying prospect in these lands; relocating to a distant community is a dangerous and potentially impoverishing affair.


Appendix H: Cachet and Skill Investment

Cachet can be spent to request support from the High Dreaming Citadel. The requestor writes a missive using Poetry. Cachet is only spent if the request is accepted.
Introductions: Gain a specific Ally for the retinue. See Appendix E: The Search for Allies. Cannot be a Sword Saint. Cachet Cost: 2. Poetry vs d6
Warship: Galley with ram. Rowers hired from coastal village, HDC finances for 1 month. Cachet Cost: 6. Poetry vs d12
Steppe Cataphract Panoply: Golden horse goblin lamellar and ornate phlogiston-bearing meteor hammer. When swung, the meteor hammer gains extra velocity from the agitation of the superheated matter within. 50% deflection vs missile fire, 25% deflection in melee, +1 to Prowess rolls involving close combat and smashing objects. Cachet Cost: 3. Poetry vs d8


Appendix I: Skills

Poetry: Monks of the Lowland Path practice poetry. A powerful poem spoken by an IC and heard by a local bard, minstrel, or soothsayer can affect the sentiments of a regional population.

...

Pirates disseminate folk stories repurposed with piratical and Cult of Protection themes. Countering these requires superior Poetry.

...

Prowess: Used for close combat and raw physical tasks, including physical stealth. When launching a surprise attack, the attacker cannot be Cut Down on that roll.

...

Supernatural monsters and divinely-blessed heroes can have skills at d20.


Appendix J: The Uses of Alchemy

6. Bodily Stasis: You will stay alive. The variations on what will happen to your body (and your mind) are nearly endless. You will be very, very lucky if you regard the byproducts as desirable. In particular, using this for those who have suffered fatal physical trauma will induce a state worse than death.
7. Euphoria: No more, no less, with all that comes with it. There is also an herb that amplifies all sensations, an antianesthetic. Administered before meals, sex, and torture.
18. Battle Psychosis: Temporarily increases Prowess die size by two steps, and d10 increases to d12+2. d12 increases to d20. Usually fatal and taken in desperation; after the battle, the user must roll base Prowess vs d20 to survive.
19. Psychostabilization: Suppresses mania, may reduce (or increase) depression, stabilizes certain forms of schizophrenia. Some warriors take it before battle, some gamblers keep it for when they get a winning streak, others acquire it as a practical matter due to their humours.
20. Life-containing: Becomes capable of hosting sapience, abiogenetically or by fettering an entity, depending on the type.

...

Roll your Alchemy vs d12.
Failure: Roll d20 on the above; that is what you have produced.
Natural 1: Roll on the above and immediately suffer the effect.
Hit your skill exactly: You create the base effect you are looking for. Roll d20 on the above table and add second effect (radically heightened effect if same) - yes, you can create sapient explosives this way. 

NPCs can attempt to produce these substances behind the scenes, and then apply them in play.

          Alchemical Interrogation

Interrogator rolls Alchemy vs victim Acuity.
If the interrogator rolls a natural 1, the victim suffers:
d4
1. Agrypnia excitata with subsequent dementia and death
2. Permanent, maximum-strength psychosis
3. Permanent catatonic dissociation
4. Death from endless epileptic seizure


Appendix K: The Uses of Fetches and Fetishes

Hanging Nocturne
A set of wind chimes that attract ghosts and spirits to come and hazard passersby. The emplacer rolls F&F vs the following difficulties, depending on what kind of entity he or she wishes to summon:
-Whisperer: d4
-Poltergeist: d6
-Specter (follows those present, levying d8 attacks on them. It cannot leave earshot of the Nocturne): d8
-Banshee (d8 attack on all within earshot when it appears): d10
A failed F&F check creates a soundless ethereal wail which will immediately draw the desired entity.

...

The creator of the thunder reed places a single hollow reed upright in the earth, surrounded by sticks of incense or burning herbs, and plays it a flute song. Sonic energy is supersaturated in the reed so that a mighty thunderclap will be released when it is broken.
The reed is first prepared with F&F vs d4. A failed check galls the winds of music and the flutist cannot attempt to create another thunder reed until the next daybreak.
After the reed is prepared, the creator stands by the reed and makes his or her Flute check.

...

Substrate Disruptor
A music box that, when triggered, can arrest the progress of any supernatural entity (ie one that is not entirely biological) touched by its sound. When the music box activates, the entity rolls its Prophecy vs the emplacer’s F&F; if it is defeated, it cannot continue until the sound comes to an end.


Appendix L: Retinue Personalities

Twelve Loyal Personalities (d12)
1 Duty-oriented
2 Conscientious
3 Up for an adventure
4 Loves to kill people
5 Weak-willed, accepts what powerful personalities say
6 Despises the pirates for their depredations
7 Human sacrifice abolitionist
8 Stoic, accepts exterior conditions, attempts to act in congruence with plans that may bring harmony

Twelve Disloyal Personalities (d12)
4 Secretly serving a millenarian cult or ideology
5 Enraged about being forced into service
6 Lay initiate of the Cult of Protection

Twelve Corrupt Personalities (d12)
1 Desperate to acquire fungible wealth to avert economic collapse of home community
2 Utterly nihilistic and disgusted with life; seeking absolute hedonism and then a quick death
3 Member of a prosperity cult; looking to abscond with wealth and gain status within the cult


Appendix M: Combat

A Sword Saint (d12) is in melee with Pirates A, B, and C (d6).
Three example result spreads:
1. Sword Saint rolls 8, all pirates are Cut Down, victory being impossible.
2. Sword Saint rolls 6, Pirate A rolls 6, Pirate B rolls 5, Pirate C rolls 4. Pirate A clashes with Sword Saint, Pirates B and C are Cut Down.
3. Sword Saint rolls 2, Pirate A rolls 6, Pirate B rolls 5, Pirate C rolls 1. Sword Saint is Cut Down before having a chance to Cut Down Pirate C.


Appendix N: Commentary

NPC retinue members will have conversations with each other and the players, and then be risked and killed in combat. This kind of sacrifice is normally relatively opaque in wargames. Named characters may die, but they haven’t manifested themselves as real people in the way that TTRPG NPCs can.

The purpose of structuring things this way is for the drama and tragedy of it, and for the experience of an iron dedication to an outcome capable of sending people with personalities to their deaths to win a battle or produce a needed resource. That is depicted here not because it’s a positive good, but because it has always been a part of the lives of those who manage people in dangerous situations, and I felt a desire to create a ruleset that focuses on it.


Appendix O: Local Hostility

1. Service Refused: Provisioners refuse to supply the ICs and their retinue, being gruff or citing potential loss of business or reprisals.
2. Hail of Rocks: d4 retinue members chosen by the GM have rocks cast at them by locals who then rush away into crowds, markets, rookeries, or the wilderness as is appropriate. Each targeted retinue member has a 1/20 chance of being killed.
3. Code of Silence: Practically all locals refuse to speak to the IC and his retinue.
4. Night Militia: Hooded or masked locals attack the retinue wherever they take refuge at night.

Example ways to reduce or mitigate Local Hostility
Aiding locals by assuming the risk of Prophecy.

___


It's been a while since my last post, as I've been spending much of my free time editing large adventures and RPG sourcebooks, but I needed something new to work on while editing, so Investigating Censor was born.

Art - First Run